


seek out the hidden places where the fire burns hot and bright

by loonylu



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Dissociation, Drug Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Juno is trying to get better, M/M, Mild D/s dynamics between Juno and Peter, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Rita is Perfect and Can Do No Wrong, Scars, and part of getting better is letting other people see how much you're hurting, references to Diamond, references to Jack Takano, references to Sarah Steel, unbeta'd we die like men, very vague self harm mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 08:17:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17936162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonylu/pseuds/loonylu
Summary: Juno hasn’t lived around anyone who actually cared or noticed how he was feeling since he lived with Benzaiten. Now he’s living on a very small spaceship with four maddeningly perceptive thieves and Rita, for fuck’s sake. If he drinks till he passes out, or spends a day unable to get out of bed, or jumps at little noises, someone is going to notice. And talk to him about it. It’s frankly unbearable. One by one, the crew discovers some of the trauma Juno carries with him, and Juno tries to get better. (four times the crew notices Juno isn’t okay + one bit of Rita fluff)





	seek out the hidden places where the fire burns hot and bright

**Author's Note:**

> includes alcohol abuse, flashbacks, dissociation, and references sexual abuse of a minor. please take care of yourself! title is from "Amy aka Spent Gladiator" by the Mountain Goats.

It starts when Vespa stares him down one morning at breakfast, only a few weeks into joining the crew, and Juno suddenly notices the whites of her eyes are yellowing from radiation poisoning. He’s so distracted by sudden memories of _nicotine stains, Ma, cigarettes, Ma putting out her cigarette on his hand_ that he misses what Vespa is saying and has to make her repeat it.

 

In her raspy voice, Vespa says, “Quit drinking so much, Steel, we’re nearly out of liquor and we aren’t restocking anytime soon. This isn’t a Martian bar.” She goes back to eating her reconstituted eggs.

 

Juno opens his mouth, undecided if he’s going to apologize or claim he’s not actually drinking that much and that she needs to be less of a fucking busybody but if he said that then Buddy would kick his ass across the galaxy and probably be justified. So instead he snaps his mouth shut and nods. A happy medium. He’s trying to find more of those, but apparently, he’s still drinking too much. He’ll cut back. He will.

 

That night, he has only one drink as he watches empty space flash by through the window in the observation deck. It’s not enough.

 

+++

 

Buddy is next. A few weeks later. He’s getting ready for bed when he hears an insistent, rapping knock at the door of his frankly tiny quarters.

 

“Steel!” Buddy shouts, “Open up. Gotta run something by you for the heist on Io next week. How do you feel about -”

 

Buddy stops cold as Juno wrenches open the door. Juno is shirtless, which probably wasn’t a good idea, he should have put a shirt on, _nice going Steel_ but it’s too late now. Under the fluorescent light, Juno’s chest is on display.

 

Juno can see Buddy taking in his scars. It’s too much for Juno himself to take in, usually, so he tries to ignore them and forget them as best he can unless he feels like really wallowing in it. Now, under Buddy’s unwavering gaze, Juno feels exposed. He remembers the gravel marks down his stomach, the place where his ulna broke through the skin, the ragged lines like claw marks down his side, the tiny lines dotted up his hips, the laser burn in the center of his chest.

 

He’s scarred to hell, so what? Dangerous line of work. And Buddy has her own share of scars. She doesn’t have room to act goddamn shocked. Juno is getting worked up, chest beginning to heave as he gulps in big breaths.

 

But he sees that Buddy is looking past the obvious big scars that cross him like comets. Buddy is focused on his forearms, where tiny circular scars are still silvery among ancient track marks, and his sides, where scars from his ma’s beatings curl around the edges of his ribcage like tattoos. _She makes him unplug the lamp from the extension cord and hand it to her neatly coiled in the dark of the apartment only sound is impact -_

 

“Buddy – “ he says, tone not quite what he intended.

 

“You got some old scars there,” she says neutrally.

 

“I don’t – “

 

“I know what a tough life looks like, Juno,” she says.

 

Oh god. She looks like she might want to _talk_ about it.

 

Edging backwards so he does not reveal the scars on his back, Juno grabs at the first shirt he can find and pulls it over his head. Unluckily, it’s Nureyev’s, so it’s simultaneously too small and too long.  Whatever.

 

“So, the Io heist?” Juno says quickly, once covered.

 

Buddy narrows her eye but doesn’t push it. “So we’ll need to disguise you, and you’re not great at going undercover, so – “

 

+++

 

Peter is next to notice, of course. Anais Lim, to this crew. They’re in bed, the night after the Io heist is successfully finished. Everything is still tenuous, still dictated by the hurt of Juno’s departure, but improving slowly. They’re in Peter’s bed, and Peter is in charge.

 

Juno is happy to let him take over. Happy to follow whatever order Peter wants. Happy to let his mind go blank and just do what Peter asks. Juno is kneeling on the floor, Peter’s cock in his mouth and Peter’s hands tight in his hair. His hands are bound behind him and it’s good. He feels good. Peter feels good. Juno licks and sucks and wishes he could use his hands.

 

“Can you take more, sweetheart? I think you can,” Peter coos at him, pushing gently on the back of his head.

 

That’s all it takes for Juno to be gone. Lost. Falling through the fucking void. His head is a cacophony of _doing good that’s what you’re for and it’s a fact it’s a fact you can count on – you’re doing so good for me Juno yes like that I think you can take more -_

 

“Juno! Juno!”

 

It takes a minute for Juno to realize where he is. He’s fallen back onto the cold metal floor of the spaceship, arms still bound under him. Peter is kneeling over him, eyes wide with panic.

 

“What?” Juno says, disoriented.

 

“Can you sit up?” Peter says, a hand on his back. “I need to get this knot undone.”

 

Juno does. The reality of _what just happened_ is settling in.   _I’m sorry I don’t know where I went please don’t hurt me_ is running on a loop through his head, but he knows from the times this happened with Diamond that saying anything too disturbing would not be welcome. 

 

“Juno,” Peter begins carefully after helping Juno get up and sit on the bed. “What was that?”

 

“Uh,” Juno says elegantly, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s still naked. Both of them are. “Nothing?”

 

Peter raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s just a thing that happens sometimes for me during sex,” Juno says, using all of his meager acting skills to project nonchalance. “You’re welcome to keep going, though.”

 

Peter’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “Keep… what?”

 

“I mean, if you still need to get off, you can keep fucking me or whatever we’re doing. It’s not like I mind when I get like that.”

 

“Juno. Look at me.” Peter’s eyes are dark and dangerous. “Sex will never be more important than your wellbeing. I will never want to finish sex more than I want to make sure you are okay. Right now, I just want to know what happened and if it happened because of anything I did.”

 

Juno blushes. “That’s sweet, Nureyev, but seriously, I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just…” Juno rubs his face, now, still avoiding eye contact like a champ. “Sometimes I remember things and get overwhelmed. That’s all.”

 

“You were whispering the name Jack, asking him to stop,” Peter says seriously.

 

Juno feels the blood drain from his face.

 

“Was Jack your ex-fiancee?” Peter asks.

 

Juno turns away, rifling under the bed for some clothes that will fit him because he cannot deal with this naked. “No. Diamond was my ex-fiancee.”

 

“So who is Jack?”

 

Juno finds a shirt and puts it on. He straightens up and faces Nureyev. “Why the fuck does it matter?”

 

Peter reaches out, long fingers inching towards Juno’s scarred hands. “Because, darling, it sounds like he hurt you.”

 

Juno cannot have this conversation. “Not the only one,” he mutters as he pulls on pants.

 

“I know,” Peter says quietly.

 

Juno is at the door when he remembers he needs to communicate better. That talking about his feelings is one of his goals for getting better. This is just as important as drinking less.

 

“Peter, I –“

 

“No, love,” Peter says, standing beside the bed. “You don’t have to tell me. Just, please, tell me what I need to do to make sure that never, ever happens again.”

 

“Um.” Juno is searching for words. “Please don’t push my head around when I’m sucking your dick. And.” Juno doesn’t know how to say this. “Don’t tell me I can take more, okay, and I’m sorry but I need to leave now,” he says in a rush, and that’s all the communication he has in him so he all but runs out of Peter’s quarters and to his own.

 

+++

 

Jet’s next. They’re on some podunk Outer Rim planet, fuck knows where, in a _small town._ And Juno can deal with some city bullshit, but he has no damn clue how to deal with anything that’s not concrete and meanness. Jet and Juno are trying to figure out a way to signal Buddy for extraction, which means Jet is tinkering with both of their comms while Juno tries to wrap his own broken ankle.

 

“I can boost the signal,” Jet says slowly from their hiding place in an abandoned shack, tiny fire burning on the dirt floor to stave off the cold, “but it will take several days.”

 

“Days?” Juno snaps.

 

“Up to ten, I believe,” Jet says in his even tone. “But then Buddy will retrieve us.”

 

“How are we gonna get supplies?” Juno demands.

 

“I will go hunting and barter my skills in the local town center. We will be fine.”

 

“What about my goddamn ankle?” Juno snaps, gasping as his hand brushes the injury.

 

“There is pain medication in the yellow bottle located in the first aid kit,” Jet says. “I suggest you take it. But unless you are at risk of death, I cannot allow you to leave our hiding place. The man we just double-crossed is almost certainly looking for you, Juno, and a hospital would be an easy place for him to find you.” Jet stands. “I will be leaving now.”

 

Then the big guy is gone, and Juno lets out a noisy breath. Squashing down the _you’re just like me little monster head hurts tired then one day_ \- Juno swallows two pain pills dry, rolling his eyes at the colorful Saffron Pharma label. _Solatium._

 

He thinks about the last time he took Solatium. Sola, the kids called it in Oldtown. Selling the little white pills on the street corner, getting new bottles every week from Mick’s uncle and a few extra pills just for him, given out of Mick’s line of sight with a wink. Juno was very big on drugs at that age. At every age, until he was thirty, Juno admitted to himself.

 

The Sola was kicking in and the throbbing in his ankle was subsiding. Maybe he should take another, just to make it so he could sleep? Not like there was much better to do.

 

Juno dry swallows two more. The world is melting into technicolor, and he doesn’t have to follow his memories down to the time when Mick’s uncle invaded the bubble of chemical happiness by putting his hand down Juno’s pants. Juno can just float away from big hands and the bitter smell of crushed painkillers.

 

Juno feels like hands are still on him. He has no idea how much time has passed. He needs to get up, get out of Mick’s house and hide, and it seems like the way to do that is in the yellow bottle.

 

He rolls over and wakes up slowly. The big guy is watching him. Dawn light is creeping up through the boarded-up windows. How long has Juno been asleep?

 

“How long was I out?” Juno asks, tongue thick with thirst.

 

“Two days,” Jet says, calm as ever.

 

Juno flops back down. Fuck. His head is ringing, remembering _Mick yelling Dad! Dad! Please we gotta get Juno to the hospital he took too much Sola and he won’t wake up but his eyes are open  –_

“I was not aware you had a prescription drug addiction,” Jet says.

 

“I don’t.” Juno curls on his side away from Jet and tries to keep his voice from shaking.

 

“You consumed six doses of Solatium in the twelve hours I was gone.”

 

“Guess so.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Ankle,” Juno grunts.

 

“You have used this drug before,” Jet states.

 

“As a kid. Had to sell it for a bit, to get by.”

 

“I know you did not have a pleasant childhood.”

 

“You can say that again,” Juno huffs.

 

“I know you did not have a pleasant childhood.”

 

Juno rolls his eyes.

 

“Was this a suicide attempt?”

 

Juno sits up at that. “No,” he says emphatically. “No offense, but I don’t want to talk about it. It was a… slip up. That’s all. I haven’t taken Sola in a decade. It’s goddamn fine.”

 

“Very well.” Jet does not push. Part of Juno wishes he would.

 

+++

 

Rita is last. She’s actually first, but they’ve never lived together, not really, until they ended up on the same spaceship. Even so, Rita has always fussed when he came to the office drunk or high, bandaged him up when his injuries spelled out a relationship going sour, kept a close eye on how much he was sleeping. Juno is not too proud to admit that Rita is definitely the reason he is alive right now, many times over.

 

Juno can feel her watching him, as weeks stretch to months with the crew. She’s proud of him, he thinks, for figuring things out with Nureyev. For drinking less and snapping less. She doesn’t say anything about it, which is a marvel in itself. Juno is grateful for her.

 

Today, they have nothing to do but rocket through deep space on the way to meet their contact on Elion. For Rita, this means setting up a stream marathon in the tiny multipurpose room (used for entertainment, meetings, and as an infirmary more than once). Juno is poking at his bruised ribs, settled between Peter and Rita on the fold-down couch. Jet is seated on the floor between Rita’s legs as Rita constructs an elaborate French braid out of his dark hair.

 

“Stop that,” Peter says affectionately, batting Juno’s hands away from prodding his injured ribs.

 

“Make me,” Juno grumbles, unable to stop a smile forming.

 

“Anais! Boss! Shush so I can watch the stream!”

 

“Not your boss anymore, Rita,” Juno says for the umpteenth time.

 

“Yeah, well, shush anyway!” Rita says loudly, crunching on her salmon puffs and getting the sticky powder in Jet’s hair.

 

Peter kisses his cheek and pulls him closer, which makes Juno’s face turn bright red. He quickly turns his attention to the stream to distract from his complete unfamiliarity with casual, loving touch. He doesn’t know why some touch feels like not enough and other touch feels like too much for him to tolerate.

 

On the screen, a plucky child hero is standing up to a cartoonishly villainous adult. It wouldn’t be Juno’s first choice of subject matter, but he’s relaxed, and he’s okay, and he’ll be fine. Peter’s fingers are carding through his hair and Rita is warm against his side. He keeps his attention onscreen and doesn’t even flinch when the adult slaps the child across the face. He’s proud of himself for that.

 

A door slams nearby, followed by Buddy’s loud voice and Vespa’s rasp. Juno nearly jumps out of his skin, sending salmon puffs flying. “Holy _shit,_ ” he says loudly, then blushes because _goddamnit Steel, way to make a scene about nothing._

 

Peter looks concerned, reaching out to tug Juno back down to the couch. _Ma grabs his wrist and twists the doctors call it a spiral break._ Rita waves Peter off, abandoning Jet’s hair sculpture.

 

Juno feels like melting into the floor and is opening his mouth to apologize when Rita speaks up.

 

“Hey boss, you wanna come with me to get more snacks? You know little old Rita, can’t carry more than a bag of snacks at a time! And we’ll need a lot more than that! So come with me right now okay we’re going and don’t you move a muscle Mister Jet because I got lots more to do on your hair before it’s done!”

 

Juno is bodily dragged towards the kitchen. Rita is goddamn strong. Juno is bracing for a _conversation_ about _how he’s doing_ , but they get to the kitchen and Rita makes him get the snacks from the top shelf and doesn’t ask about why he flinched. Despite himself, Juno finds himself relaxing somewhat under Rita’s directions.

 

“Mistah Steel?” Rita asks.

 

Here it comes.

 

“You mind if I change the stream when we go back in? It just ain’t that interesting to me any more.”

 

Juno’s throat feels tight. “Yeah, Rita, I wasn’t paying much attention anyway.”

 

“Great! Now help me carry these!”

 

Juno feels lighter as he carries the snacks back down the corridor and settles by Peter’s side. He’ll be okay, he decides. He will.

 

 

 

 


End file.
